


The Act of Falling

by Argent_Vulpine



Series: Sylveth Weekend 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Board Games, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Golden Deer, Golden Deer Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Golden Deer Sylvain Jose Gautier, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fic, Sylveth Weekend 2020, some jealousy, sylveth, tea time, what is a beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argent_Vulpine/pseuds/Argent_Vulpine
Summary: Prompt fill for Day 1 of Sylveth Weekend 2020.Sylvain transfers to the Golden Deer because their new teacher is really hot... and that's the only reason, right?
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Sylveth Weekend 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017349
Kudos: 27





	The Act of Falling

Byleth stared at the young man in front of her. He looked to be perhaps only a year or two younger than her, if that, and already he almost towered above her. She imagined he might have one last growth spurt, and then she’d likely be craning her neck even further.

As it was, she’d already had to take a half-step back in order to avoid neck strain.

The tall redhead was giving her an easy grin – too easy, and more fake than even Claude’s – while he asked if he could transfer to her class. She’d been warned about him before. Skirt-chaser. Philanderer. A dozen other words sparked by a dozen more rumors.

Her impassive face gave nothing away as she studied him, scrutinized the flirtatious way he’d addressed her, the way he was grinning lazily. Beneath it all, though, she could see a spark of… something.

“Okay. Put in the paperwork and get things arranged. If your current professor signs off, be in the classroom at the start of next week.”

Sylvain’s eyes – honey-brown and oddly cold – registered a moment of surprise before he gave her that too-fake grin. “Sure thing, professor! I’ll get right on that!”

After he’d gone, Claude stepped out of the classroom, an eyebrow cocked in question. “Really, Teach? Sylvain?”

She turned to face her house’s leader, studying him. “Play him in a game of chess sometime, Claude,” she said simply. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

It didn’t take a genius to know that the Gautier heir had requested to move to her class because she was a woman. But Byleth hadn’t become the Ashen Demon overnight, and she certainly hadn’t gained that moniker solely because of her prowess on the battlefield. Claude might be a schemer, and one day he would be a brilliant tactician, she was sure of it. But she was here to teach them the finer points of battle or even war.

And Sylvain, for all his florid words and overt advances, had the right mind for it. He would be wasted under the tutelage of another.

Claude gave a hummed assent, taking her words under advisement. She appreciated that about him, that he knew when to stop pushing and to listen. Schemes wouldn’t get you far if you didn’t have solid tactics underneath. “Yeah, Teach, see you at dinner.”

He watched as she walked away, boot-heels clicking on the stone path.

——————

Sylvain joined them for dinner that night, the three of them having selected the pheasant roast, which Byleth was eating with enthusiasm, pausing every so often to interject the conversation between her two dining companions and patently ignoring all of Sylvain’s overly-flirtatious comments.

“Say, Teach, could we go over that field formation again?” asked Claude, completely off the original topic.

She paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “Which one?” she asked, taking the bite and savoring it while she waited for his answer.

“The bow and lance one. I think Sylvain here would benefit from it, don’t you think? And I’m still not sure I understand how it really works,” he added, the admission clearly a lot from him.

At the mention of the formation, Sylvain had straightened up, a subtle shift in his demeanor that indicated he was definitely interested… and definitely paying attention. His eyes sharpened, though he kept that fake smiled fixed to his face.

Byleth set her silverware down, looking between the two of them, and then gave a soft, short sigh. “Sure, I can do that. Where are you stuck at with it?”

“Well, shouldn’t a formation include short-range fighters, too, like sword or axe? Why only long- and mid-range for this one?”

She nodded understanding. “I see. This formation is a ground version of a mounted squad. Ideally, the archers would be airborne on wyvern or pegasi,” she said, nodding toward Claude, “while the lancers would be mounted on horseback for an added advantage. The ground formation allows the lancers and archers to learn how to work together before adding in the complexity of mounts, while still being a fairly effective unit on the whole.”

As she spoke, Byleth sketched invisible lines with her fingers, the two young men focused on her movements and for once not making ridiculous comments. “Lancers, as you pointed out, are most excellent at mid-range. They have the reach, but they can be effective at short range as well. I’ll go over some close-range tactics with you next week.” That was addressed to Sylvain, who glanced up briefly, eyes widening before he nodded eagerly.

“The lancers protect the archers in this scenario, which allows archers who are comfortable with close-range shooting to get off a few shots if needed, while keeping other units from advancing on their lancers. A sword or axe isn’t really necessary here, though you could put one in the middle. Someone with a little magical ability, who could heal in a pinch or deal some extra damage, perhaps.”

Though her face didn’t change at all, her fingers tapped on the table, an indicator of deep thought. Both of her dining companions zeroed in on that movement, each studying in their own way. Byleth either didn’t notice the intense study, or she didn’t care.

“The more versatile your close-range fighter is, the better,” she finally said. “They’d be the odd person out, in this scenario, especially they’re unlikely to be mounted in the future. Better to not worry about including one at all for the time being.”

“When you do have mounts, how would the formation change?” Sylvain this time, leaning forward. “Lancers in a mounted phalanx with the archers airborne, right?”

She nodded. “Exactly. Air units are more maneuverable. They can cover a lot of distance, and they have advantage on ground troops. Of course, lancers can work from the air, as well, but that’s not what this formation is about. Air coverage is for the archers – and perhaps ranged mages – while the ground is protected by your lancers. It’s a good way to punch through enemy lines, clear the way for your foot troops like swords, axes, and the rest of your mages.”

A large shadow approached, catching Byleth’s attention. She looked up, something about her face softening the slightest bit when she saw who it was. “Hey Dad,” she said, waving for him to sit.

He did, looking at her dining companions with a raised brow. “Hey kid. You’re running late, I was getting worried.”

She glanced up at the windows, gauging the time. “Oh. Sorry. Let me finish eating and then we can go.”

He nodded, waiting patiently. Indulgently, even, watching her shovel down the rest of her pheasant. As she stood, she pointed to each of the students in turn. “Claude, air patrol tomorrow. Do not ‘forget’ again, or you’ll have a much less pleasant partner to work with next time. And you, Sylvain. You’re not official yet, but Hanneman has already agreed to it. You’ve got stable duty.”

When they both moved to protest, Jeralt took that moment to lean forward, interrupting. “Stop and think about why she’s assigning these tasks to you before you mouth off,” he advised, standing and offering his daughter a hand up.

Father and daughter left, the two chatting amiably. Whatever Byleth was saying made Jeralt laugh, clapping her on the back with enough force anyone else would have staggered. Sylvain and Claude watched in silence for a long moment before the Golden Deer leader turned in his seat, giving the redhead a long look.

“Well, I guess it’s official, then. Welcome to the Golden Deer.” A beat. “How did you like your first lesson?”

Sylvain returned the look, sizing the other man up. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he finally asked.

Claude only gave him a knowing grin. “Teach is right. I think you’ll learn a lot from her. Hope you’re able to keep up.” The brunette stood, gathering both his and Byleth’s plates. “Oh, and, a word of advice?” When Sylvain looked up at him, giving him a puzzled frown but nodding assent, Claude continued. “Don’t flirt with Teach the way you do all the other girls. It won’t get you anywhere.”

With that he left, giving a jaunty salute with his free hand as he walked off and leaving a scowling Sylvain in his wake.

——————

On his only true free day that weekend, Byleth appeared at his door, knocking politely on the door frame and waiting until he looked up from his desk. “Are you available this afternoon?” she asked, face as blank as ever.

“For you I can be,” he said with a sly grin, which she openly ignored. “What’s the occasion?”

“Tea,” she said simply. “On the third bell, at the gazebo in the garden.”

Sylvain paused, hovering by the door and looking briefly uncertain. “… yeah, I can do that,” he finally said.

Byleth nodded, exactly once, as she always seemed to do. “No need to bring anything,” she said, stepping away. “Third bell, don’t forget.”

“Yeah, I won’t. See you then, Professor.” A tea date with a gorgeous woman? Who was he to turn that down… even if she was his teacher? Maybe especially so.

——————

Sylvain was, in fact, early. It hadn’t taken him nearly as long to get to the gazebo as he’d thought it would, but perhaps that was a good thing. Surely the professor would appreciate a few minutes early. He could see her there already, a pot of tea already on the table though it didn’t look as if she’d started the steeping just yet.

She moved to her seat, glancing up as he approached, and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. It was only then that he noticed she’d set up a board game on the table as well.

He grinned at her, settling into the seat. “Hope I’m not too early,” he said, nodding to the teapot as she lifted the lid.

“It’s fine. Is bergamot okay?” she asked, putting a sachet of the tea into the pot without waiting for an answer.

He leaned back, a little surprised. “More than. It’s my favorite, in fact,” he replied, watching her with a critical eye. If she’d known that, she gave nothing away, merely giving a soft hum of acknowledgement.

“I brought an Almyran game that my father taught me. Would you like to learn how to play?” she asked, gesturing to the board. It looked simple enough, a five-by-five grid with black and white tokens. A single empty space was in the very center, and that was what intrigued him. It meant the game had a forced start; how many ways could it be played after that?

“Sounds fun. How does it work?”

She called the game alquerque, explaining the rules to him while the tea steeped, then set the pieces up before pouring them both a cup of tea.

“I’m trying to get to know each of my students a little better,” she said, moving her piece. “Mercenary groups don’t really have this kind of… environment. A lot of the stories are exaggerated, and you only really care much about what they’re capable of, not so much who they are. So this is a little different for me. I thought perhaps tea would be a good way to get to know people, aside from the sparring ground.”

He moved his own piece, nodding in understanding. He imagined the academy maintained a slower pace than what she was used to. Or at least a different sort of pace. “So you’re getting to know us. Our fighting style from spars, and… who we are as people through this?” he asked, taking a sip of the tea.

That agreeing hum again, accompanied by a nod. “Something along those lines. You can learn a lot about a person by what they say, or do… or how they play a game,” she said pointedly. “I had a feeling that you would like games of strategy.”

“Ah, you caught me out. You’re more observant than you seem at first glance,” he remarked, giving her an appraising look.

She stared back, her eyes boring into him, as if they could see through him. It was… unnerving, in a way. “I could say the same about you,” she finally offered, carefully taking a sip of her tea.

He caught the faintest crinkling of her nose before she set the cup down, adding a dollop of cream to sweeten it. Interesting. “What’s your favorite tea?” he asked as he studied the board for his next move.

“I don’t know yet.” Sylvain looked up at that, surprised, and caught the tiniest bit of movement at the corners of her lips. An almost-smile? “Not a lot of opportunities to have tea in the field, and dad prefers… other kinds of drinks.” She gave a faint shrug. “So I’m testing as I go. This one isn’t bad with the cream,” she added after taking a sip.

He moved his piece, biting back on a smile. “So do you like sweeter drinks, then?”

“Hard to say, I suppose. Sweet is fine. Fruity is also fine? Your move,” she said, drawing his attention back to the board. He hadn’t even seen her take her turn.

Sylvain knew he was going to lose. He was at a disadvantage, having never played before, and even then he could tell she was quite skilled at strategy games, herself. But he could at least give it a serious effort. “So, that formation you were talking about at dinner the other day,” he began, frowning down at the board. “If you had to arrange it from your current class, how would you organize it.”

“You and Lorenz as primary lancers – don’t make that face, you’ll have to learn to work with him – with a squad each of lancers under your command. Claude and Leonie as the archers. She can be back-up lance if needed, but I think she’ll really take to flying and she’ll be better as an airborne archer. Also with their own squads.” She tapped the table with her fingers. “Marianne as your healer, probably. Once she learns the sword a bit, so she can defend herself, she’ll make an excellent healer for such a mobile group. And she’s good with horses.” The last was added almost as an afterthought.

Marianne was who he’d had stable duty with, and he could see where the comment came from. “She really dotes on Dorte, doesn’t she?” he asked with a grin.

“A couple more months and she should be able to pass the mounted certification. A mounted healer would be much more efficient, and Dorte can keep her safe.”

“So this grouping, you’re planning for all of us to earn our mount certifications, aren’t you?” he asked, placing his token on the board.

“You, Lorenz, and Marianne on horseback. Claude on wyvern and Leonie on pegasus.” She reached out and took a sweet biscuit from the tower, nibbling on it. “You would cover the most ground, clear the way for the rest. Raphael can’t do it, he’s too valuable as a brawler. Ignatz is no good on a mount. Hilda… possibly, but she’s best with an axe and doesn’t fit this particular formation. I’ll probably attach her as the battering ram to the ground patrol.”

“She’ll complain about it,” he remarked, having already seen enough of Hilda and her comments about her supposed frailty. No one who’d ever heard of Holst really believed that… did they?

“She can complain, but she cares about her friends too much to let them get hurt if she can help it.”

“So what about Lysithea, then?”

“Gremory. She’ll be on foot, but she packs a very powerful magical punch. You should watch her training some time.”

He gave a low whistle, impressed despite himself. “Okay. And if you get any more transfers from the other classes?” When she looked up questioningly, he shrugged. “I’m far from the only one who was interested, I was just the first.”

“Then I’ll work them into existing formations or make new ones utilizing their talents.”

“That easy?”

“It only looks easy. Evaluating your skills is the hard part on my end; you all learning to work together… that’s the hard part on yours.” She took another bite of the biscuit. “I am fully aware that Lorenz… rubs people the wrong way. However, he is a good fighter and will make a good leader, as well. The same as you will.” She paused, setting the sweet confection down. “Incidentally, the both of you will begin learning reason magic immediately, alongside further lance and horsemanship instruction.”

“You want me… wielding magic?”

Byleth gave him a long, calculating look. He shivered under her scrutiny. “You’re well-suited for it,” was what she settled on saying. She must have seen the disbelieving look on his face, because she gave a slight sigh. “You elected to transfer to my class. Regardless of your reasons, you have to trust that I will guide you toward what is right for you.”

That did earn him pause. His outward reason for changing classes was… well, it was definitely playing to what he knew people said about him. Skirt-chaser. If people thought that was why he’d transferred, he would let them. But he’d seen how she’d handled herself in the training grounds, heard the stories from the field. Ashen Demon, they called her, in hushed whispers.

And he’d wanted to know. To know, and see, and learn.

Somehow, he suspected she knew that.

They continued conversation, whiling away the time and playing the game, until all the tea was drunk. He lost, as he’d known he would, but she gave him the game as a gift, telling him to study up how to play, practice, and they’d play again some time.

When he finally left, heading back to his room to drop off the game, he couldn’t help but wonder why he felt… lighter, somehow.

——————

Tea with the professor became something of a trend. Sometimes it would be in the middle of the week, after classes. He saw her with other students from time to time, though it seemed to taper off to a regular handful after a while. A handful that included himself and Claude… and Felix, once his friend had finally caved and joined him in the Golden Deer.

Sylvain felt a flare of jealousy when Felix became the professor’s adjutant, backing her up in battle and heading the battalion she commanded. He squashed it, reasoning that it only made sense. Felix was an excellent swordsman, and the professor was not tied to a formation the way others were. She went where she was needed. And truthfully, Sylvain trusted his friend to keep their professor safe, if it came to it.

He chose not to dwell on the question of why he even cared.

Not, of course, that it stopped a certain someone from commenting on it.

He was on his way back to the dorm after another tea and game session with the professor when Claude slid into step with him, tossing an arm around Sylvain’s shoulders as if they were best buddies. “So, Gautier, what’s up with you and Teach, huh?” asked the brunette with a broad grin.

Sylvain tried to push him off, already irritable, but the house leader refused to be dislodged. If anything, his grip seemed to tighten. “Nothing’s going on.” That flash of jealousy again, this time at Claude. He knew the other man spent as much time with their professor as he did.

She spent the most time with all of her tacticians, a fact he could understand, but which still rankled… for some reason.

“Oho, is it possible our little Sylvain has a genuine crush on Teach?” Claude asked, his grin widening further. It shouldn’t have been possible for someone to have such a shit-eating grin on their face and still somehow manage to look annoyed, but Claude pulled it off.

“Sure I do. Who doesn’t? She’s quite the looker, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say.” He sighed, forcing Sylvain to stop walking. “Look… I consider her a good friend and a valuable ally. And I think that she considers you and I the same. Don’t do something that’ll screw that up for you.”

It was probably too late for that, after the way he’d acted when she caught him in the town, breaking things off with his latest fling. Then again, she hadn’t brought those incidents up, and he was still attending tea with her, still part of her dinner rotation.

“Fine, fine. Whatever will get you to go away.” He managed to get out from Claude’s grasp, walking briskly away and doing his best to hide the scowl on his face.

——————

Sylvain wondered where the year had gone, to have flown by so quickly that they were already arrived at the White Heron Cup, the ball… all of it. Thanks to the professor – and Claude, he grudgingly admitted – they had handily won the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, and with Dorothea now in their class, they had easily smashed the competition, making Dorothea the year’s certified dancer.

He was oddly proud of the Golden Deer, a class full of misfits that had taken him in, too, despite… well, everything. He’d been given a chance, and had somehow flourished under the professor. Perhaps the only one truly surprised by that was him.

And now it was the night of the ball, and he was watching her dance the first dance of the evening with Claude. He was watching them out of the corner of his eye, pretending not to pay attention while chatting with a student whose name he hadn’t even caught, until she got huffy at his lack of attention and stomped away.

Felix replaced her, raising a dark brow and shoving a drink into Sylvain’s hands. “You look like you bit into something sour,” the swordsman remarked, following the redhead’s gaze onto the floor. “So. You really like her, don’t you? … huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

His friend smirked up at him. “Not a damn thing. Try not to do anything too stupid.” With that, the man stalked off, no doubt intending to slip out of the ball while no one was looking.

The dance ended, and another one began, with the professor being whisked off by Ferdinand, of all people. Sylvain groaned; he’d been hoping to ask for a dance. Well, he’d just have to keep trying.

Except that every time a song ended and he was almost there, someone else claimed a dance from Byleth. Lorenz, not willing to be shown up by Ferdinand. Ignatz and then Raphael. Even Dorothea claimed a dance from their teacher!

He had given up all hope of claiming a dance when he saw Byleth slip out of the door. Going somewhere? Against his better judgment, Sylvain followed, keeping a fair distance behind. When he saw her head into the Goddess Tower, his heart skipped a beat. Was he… too late? 

And just where did that thought even come from? He shook his head, attempting to clear it, and watched for a few moments longer. No one had gone in after her; perhaps there was already someone there. Claude, perhaps?

Well, there was only one way to find out. He slipped into the tower, cautiously ascending the stairs, only to find her… alone.

Felix’s warning not to do something stupid was remembered a hair too late.

——————

And then it didn’t matter anymore. His mishap at the Goddess Tower, firmly sticking his foot in his mouth (he was pretty sure he could actually taste shoe leather), and even finally gaining the coveted dance after all faded in comparison to what came next.

Jeralt’s death, a hole in the sky out of which Byleth stepped a changed woman, the strange rite that Lady Rhea had intended her to take (he agreed with Claude that something was fishy about that), and then… Edelgard’s betrayal.

The Adrestian Empire, now under Edelgard’s control. The attack on the monastery, the Immaculate One appearing… and Byleth’s fall.

It was the last time he would see her for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Sylveth Weekend 2020 - Day 1: Flirt/Crush


End file.
